


Power and Control

by WhoopsOK



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Athena is aware but not participating, BDSM, Beating, Bladder Control, Bondage, Dom Bobby Nash, Dom/sub, Masochism, Other, Platonic BDSM, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Post-Episode: s03e08 Malfunction, Relationship Discussions, Relationship Negotiation, Spanking, Sub Eddie Diaz, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22429183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/WhoopsOK
Summary: A look crosses Eddie’s face like he thinks he’s misinterpreting Bobby’s meaning and is annoyed with himself, confused as to what they’re talking about. Then when Bobby just looks at him, doesn’t rush to clear the air, his face goes completely blank. “…What exactly are you saying, cap?”Bobby doesn’t flinch at the nickname. “As your captain, I’m mandating you speak to a counselor,” he answers firmly. “As your friend…” He pauses, once again wondering how to go about phrasing this. “And as something of a professional sadist, I’m offering something extra.”“Extra?” Eddie exclaims, aghast, but also still seated. “What, like beating the shit out of me?”(Bobby hasn’t been a Dom in years, but it seems like Eddie may need someone else in control for a while.)
Relationships: Eddie Diaz & Bobby Nash, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me, at myself, as I’m writing this prompt down: why why wh—  
> Me, at myself, as I’m upgrading it from .txt to .docx: you are not the weirdest person watching this show and if you are congrats
> 
> So…I hate that I’m so invested in every single character on this show because this writing makes me wanna scream sometimes. Ed Boy, you’re up. Or down, as it were.
> 
> This story has nothing to do with the Marina and the Diamond’s song, but that’s where I got the title from.

“Control?” Bobby had said. “That's what this is about, right?”

And Eddie had fought so hard not to sob he damn near couldn't breathe.

In all fairness, Bobby hadn’t been entirely surprised by the turn of events in light of Eddie’s recent extracurricular activity. If he’s honest with himself, and he tries to be these days, he’s more surprised he hadn’t seen it coming before now. There was a time when he was extremely perceptive of that sort of thing, saw that fracture in people.

Maybe even pressed himself into the break.

It’s a thought that he has to push away when the siren blares, same as always, but he doesn’t discard it entirely. Bobby leads the crew, because that’s what they need in a captain, and doesn’t think one way or another about Eddie’s tears when it’s clear enough that he’s focused for now. Later that night, when he gets into his truck, though, that back burner starts boiling over a little.

There are several ways to go about this, up to and including letting the thought go entirely. All the paths, though, start with him speaking with his wife. He doesn’t mean to talk for very long, but at some point, his mouth gets ahead of his feet into the territory of _strategizing_. Just so the idea isn’t stuck in his brain, mostly, but it is admittedly a pretty thorough idea.

Athena listens, because of course she does. She watches him carefully until he finally stops pacing, leaned up against the counter, a hand over his mouth and staring into space.

“It's been a long time since you've done that kinda thing,” she says carefully. “Are you sure you want to pick that role back up?”

Bobby tilts his head briefly, distractedly. “Not like I dropped it because it was anything awful,” he replies, finally bringing his gaze back over to her. “It was a hobby, not a need.”

Bondage is not at all like knitting or pottery except in a very unique sort of lighting, but well, Bobby’s been in that light.

“Mm.” Athena allows that with a nod. “But you think Eddie needs it?”

Bobby huffs, crosses the room to her. “I think he needs something. A therapist first.” He sits down beside her, warms over when they reach for each other's hands at the same time. He looks at her sidelong. “But therapists don't work you over quite like Doms do.”

“And if fighting was his outlet, just talking to a shrink might not cut it,” she concludes, with an arched eyebrow.

Bobby gives her a half smile. “I got unfairly lucky marrying someone so smart.”

Athena chuckles, kissing him sweetly. “I got lucky marrying someone so kind.”

“Mm…” Bobby lets out a quiet sigh as they separate, though. “It'd break a lot of rules to even ask him. Not to mention convention.”

“Convention wouldn't have let us get married at all,” she reminds him, picks up her tea. “Is this about sex for you?”

Bobby shakes his head. “No, it was always just interesting to me. I like...” He thinks for a moment, clears his throat. “I can _appreciate_ taking care of people however they need it, but I didn’t ever seek that out after I realized what I liked about dominance. I have to focus for two people at _least_. That takes up too much space to think about getting off.”

Athena looks at him carefully. “I need to know if that changes, Bobby.”

Bobby turns to face her completely, cupping her face. “Athena...”

“No, I don’t need you to coddle me,” she admonishes him, taking his hand away from her face to hold it. “I just want honesty, over anything else.”

“You have it,” Bobby assures her. “I won't do this at all if it makes you uncomfortable. We come first, that’s non-negotiable.”

Athena smile is soft around the edges. He leans into her hand when she strokes his jaw. “I know that, Bobby,” she answers softly. “That’s what I need from you, ok? That same loyalty. Whatever it is you have in your heart to give Eddie…” she starts.

“I will never let it compromise what I give to you or the kids,” he agrees, kissing the ring on her finger. Then on second thought, her wrist, and third thought, her neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Athena breathes, leaning in to catch his lips as soon as they’re close enough. “Can I know what you’re thinking of trying?”

“Assuming he says yes?” Bobby settles his arm around her and thinks for a moment. He drums his fingers across her shoulder. “I’ve told you some of what I used to do,” he begins.

“You have,” she agrees.

“I think he could take a fair bit of pain, so I can imagine corporal punishment could be in order. Spanking definitely, though maybe caning if he’s willing to work up to it,” Bobby answers, kissing her cheek when her face crinkles a little. She has never even eluded at judging him for this, but masochism doesn’t appeal to her in the slightest. “I wouldn’t mind doing some rope work on him. Struggle ties take a lot of physical work to get out of.”

Athena hums. “He’d be handsome done up in blue.”

The image hits Bobby, not quite out of left-field, but suddenly enough that he’s thinking about dying his own ropes again. “Yeah…” he says absently, but shakes himself. “Again, all assuming he says yes.”

“He can’t say yes if you don’t ask him,” Athena reminds him, finishing the rest of her tea and picking up his empty mug.

Bobby’s having trouble imagining what that conversation would even look like right now, so he puts the pot safely at a simmer on the back burner and follows his wife to get ready for bed.

*

Having this conversation at the firehouse seems like it’d be too much of a violation, especially if it doesn’t turn out amicably, but asking Eddie home feels a hair too intimate given the nature of what he’s about to ask. They’ve got to be on neutral ground, which is how they wind up talking at the chess tables at the end of the park. No particular way to feel trapped, no way for anyone to get close enough to overhear without them noticing.

Even without _possibly_ knowing what’s coming, Eddie walks up with his back ramrod straight like he’s approaching a firing squad.

“Well, if you feel that strongly about chess, you could’ve suggested somewhere else,” Bobby says and it works to bring Eddie’s shoulders down a fraction. He gives Bobby a dry look.

“I already know what this is about,” Eddie says, even though he takes a seat.

Bobby raises his eyebrows doubtfully. “Do you?”

“I won’t do the,” he lowers his voice, even though they’re completely alone. “I won’t do the cage fights anymore, ok?”

“Ok,” Bobby says. “That’s only part of what I was going to bring up.”

Eddie folds his arms. “The other part being?”

Right to it, then. “I think you might need another outlet,” Bobby tells him. “If you’re not going to have fighting to fill that time.” He almost says ‘void’, catches himself just before it leaves his mouth.

“What?” Eddie snorts. “You starting a sewing circle?”

“No, nothing like that.” Bobby agrees with a smile, though hell, he might just enjoy it. “I think you might need something a little more intense than that.” He looks at Eddie head on, says lowering his voice a fraction for emphasis. “Comparably _visceral_ , I guess.”

A look crosses Eddie’s face like he thinks he’s misinterpreting Bobby’s meaning and is annoyed with himself, confused as to what they’re talking about. Then when Bobby just looks at him, doesn’t rush to clear the air, his face goes completely blank. “…What exactly are you saying, _cap_?”

Bobby doesn’t flinch at the nickname. “As your captain, I’m mandating you speak to a counselor,” he answers firmly. “As your _friend_ …” He pauses, once again wondering how to go about phrasing this. “And as something of a professional sadist, I’m offering something extra.”

“ _Extra?_ ” Eddie exclaims, aghast, but also still seated. “What, like beating the shit out of me?”

“If that’s what you want,” Bobby replies, watches it throw Eddie for a loop. “You need someone who’ll do it without leaving any permanent damage. On you or anyone else.”

Eddie’s jaw goes tight and he looks away; a tough guy flinch if ever there was one. He doesn’t comment on that, though, deflects away from the accusation. He wipes a nervous hand over his mouth before he can meet Bobby’s gaze again. “You’ve done this before,” he says and it’s not a question.

Bobby nods. “I have.”

“ _Sargent Grant?_ ” Eddie croaks.

“No,” Bobby laughs before he can help himself. Her handcuff story still amuses him, even if he’s given her a better impression of how to use them since then.

“No, I mean—does she know you’re asking me this?”

That sobers Bobby instantly. “I would never have brought it to you without running it by her first. I’m not offering you a sexual or romantic relationship, Eddie. I’m offering physical release. Control.”

“Control…” Eddie parrots, then doesn’t say anything for a long while. He finally speaks up after Bobby has started to arrange the chess pieces for lack of anything better to do with his hands. “You’re not shitting me.”

“No,” Bobby answers easily. “But I’m not forcing anything either. If you aren’t interested in something like this, that’s fine. You won’t hurt my feelings or our professional relationship by telling me to shove off.”

Eddie doesn’t tell him to shove off, he just looks overwhelmed as he ruffles his own hair, gaze off to the side. “What—What exactly do I have to do?”

Bobby keeps his face neutral even if hope flares bright in his chest. That’s not even remotely close to a shut down. “You don’t _have_ to do anything.”

“No, I mean—I want…” Eddie stops himself, brings both hands down flat on the table like he’s afraid they’ll shake otherwise. “Tell me what I have to do.”

Bobby is struck by the impulse to put him on his knees and make him just _breathe._ He looks him over. “You have to be honest with me,” he answers eventually. “Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“No. If that’s a problem—”

“Answer the question I ask you,” Bobby interrupts.

Eddie’s mouth hangs open for a moment before clicking shut in shock. “No.”

“Your next session with Frank is Friday?”

“Yes, sir.”

Bobby likes the sir. He thinks it’s lowercase right now, but can see that changing. “I’m going to send you a list of things to look over and think about. I have an idea of what I want to try with you, but I don’t want to push you past where you want to go.”

“Isn’t that the point of… this kind of thing? _Sir_?” Eddie asks carefully enough that Bobby knows it’s genuine, not rebelliousness, certainly not yet.

So, Bobby gives him a genuine answer. “If we’re going to give this a try, I need to know what you like, so I don’t use that as a punishment. I need to know what you dislike, so I _can_ use it as a punishment. I need to know what you _cannot do_ , so I never do it ever, for any reason.” He thinks for a moment to take Eddie’s hand, but can’t tell if that would help the tension in his shoulders or make it worse. He folds his hands on the table, keeps his voice even and calm. “You can give me soft lines and I will toe them, but your hard lines belong to you, always. Understand?”

Eddie nods a few times before he seems to catch himself on some ingrained rule of politeness. “Yes, sir.” He raises his eyes and when he breathes out his shoulders come down in something like relief when Bobby smiles at him. “I can do that.”

Oh, Bobby thinks feeling a rush. _Oh, he’s going to be so good._


	2. Chapter 2

Eddie does a pretty good job of not looking suspect, of not acting much differently than normal, if a little more nervously energetic, all the next day.

Bobby is actually a little impressed with him. He was expecting a few furtive glances, maybe some skittishness, but all in all he seems to be addressing him normally. The closest they get to any weirdness is when he checks his email on his phone and promptly chokes on nothing. He goes red when Bobby asks if everything is alright, but nobody attributes that to his _boss_ sending him a list of kinks. Eddie does a good job of playing it off as a salacious photo from a stranger.

It's a few days before Bobby gets any sort of response to it. He’s cleaning out some of the files in the office, deciding how long to pretend he doesn’t notice Eddie lingering just outside the door. “Need something, Diaz?”

To his credit, Eddie doesn’t bother pretending he wasn’t hovering. When he steps into the doorway, he’s got a sheet of paper folded tightly in his hand, wrinkled like he’s been clenching it while he was pacing. “Hey, yeah, I wasn’t sure how you wanted…uh, the _document_ you asked me to…”

“That’s perfect, Eddie, I’ll look it over,” Bobby says holding his hand out. “Do you want to have a seat while I do?”

The answer is obvious in the way Eddie looks like he’s about to come out of his own skin. He doesn’t move, though. It takes him a second to find his words. “Do you want me to, sir?”

Bobby lets out a quiet laugh. “Shut the door,” he says, pulling out his phone. “I can send you mine, too.”

Eddie’s eyebrows flick up, eyes wide for a second. “I get to…?” His words trail off as he shuts the door and sits down.

“Of course, it’s only fair, right?” Bobby answers. He forwards the email with his filled-out sheet attached. “Keep in mind, not all of this is going to come up for us. And you can change your answers or add anything you need to.”

“Yeah, no, this…” Eddie swallows, pulling out his phone when it chimes with Bobby’s email. “This pretty much hit anything _I_ could think of…” He clears his throat. “And a lot of things I hadn’t.”

“Fair enough,” Bobby snorts. It’s not a very extensive list, but it’s pretty thorough.

The hard-no list is unsurprising and easily works into what Bobby had in mind. All the sexual boxes have been marked with a dark red _no_ as expected, but most of the restriction and pain boxes have been approved. Bobby eyes the hesitant ‘maybe’ beside watersports. “When you say watersports—?”

Eddie flashes red faster than a stoplight, quickly jumps in. “We don’t have to—”

“I think we talked about answering the question I ask you,” Bobby cuts him off firmly. “Do we need to talk about interrupting when it’s not an emergency?”

“N…No, sir,” Eddie answers. “I—Sorry.”

“Thank you. When you say watersports were you thinking of it as a punishment or a reward?”

Eddie responds first with a wince, then his words. “Neither? I had to google it and I don’t…” He scratches his neck. “I don’t mean I want you to…you know, pee on me, it’s just…” He chances a glance up at Bobby. “The _control_ thing.”

Bobby reorders his thinking. “You want me to tell _you_ when you can go.”

Eddie can’t quite look him in the face. “I think so?”

“We can give it a try,” Bobby says patiently. “Do you have any questions about my answers?”

“No, just…” Eddie doesn’t look embarrassed then, just vaguely disquieted. “I don’t think I can beg you.”

If Bobby were greener at this, he might take that as a challenge. As it stands, he doesn’t want to imagine a scenario where Eddie has felt the need to beg. “Okay. Your wellbeing is always more important than any kink I may have,” he answers. “Anything else off the top? We’re still going to talk more later.” He’s going to walk Eddie through this process as slowly as he needs walking.

This time, though, Eddie shakes his head. “No, sir. When would you like to get started?”

Bobby thinks for a moment. “Is Buck still taking Chris to the arcade this Saturday?”

Eddie blinks like he’s surprised Bobby even remembered that. “Yeah, they’re having a sleepover.”

“Arrange to be at my house by 1:45pm,” Bobby tells him plainly, folding the paper and sticking it in his pocket. “You don’t need to bring anything but yourself. I’ll look after everything once you get there.”

There’s a wonderfully flustered look on Eddie’s face as he nods, standing suddenly. “Yes, sir, I—See you Saturday?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow for your _shift_ ,” Bobby says pointedly, amused.

Eddie has such a charming blush. He shakes himself. “Right, yeah, of course. See you tomorrow.”

Bobby watches him leave before he sits back for a moment, humming with quiet anticipation.

In his enthusiasm, part of him wants to restock his toolbelt, so to speak. Before his first marriage, well before it, he’d had a chest of toys he used on his partners and… well, his clients, for a moment there. He’d left most of them behind when he left the scene itself behind and never really thought much about replacing them. It’d be a little overeager of him to shell out money on paddles or canes Eddie might not even be ok with using. Still, he figures he can justify getting a spatula or two.

If for no more reason than because Athena would skin him alive if she found out he used her cooking utensils on someone’s bare ass.

*

Eddie pulls up outside the house at 1:30pm and knocks on the door exactly 10 minutes later.

Bobby’s not so much an asshole to pick on him about the timing, he’s never liked that type of guy. Besides, he’s happy to see him and tells him as much as soon as he comes in, chuckling at his flustered smile. It just so happened to work out that the kids are going to be with friends until Sunday afternoon and Athena has a shift until 7. Next time, Bobby may need to rent a room, but for the first time, he likes the idea of them standing in familiar territory. Even if there’s a hard twist of excitement in his chest as Eddie pries off his shoes while Bobby bars the deadbolt. He can almost see Eddie’s pulse trip at the sound. “Follow me.”

The sitting room has been slightly rearranged for this. The curtains are pulled across the windows so the light has gone warm and blurry, save for the few tiny lines of sunlight where the slats don’t quite align. The coffee table has been cleared of its usual decorations and replaced with his new set of wooden kitchen utensils. Eddie swallows when he sees them. Bobby will decide later if he’s going to have Eddie kneel over it or stay standing to lean over the sofa.

They have a few things to discuss first though.

“Front and center, please,” Bobby says and Eddie complies easily, even if he’s still visibly carrying his nerves; movements jerky, but not uncertain. He folds his hands behind his back in a parade rest, falling back on familiar habits. Bobby feels no need to change that.

“I want to be clear that I’m proud of you already,” he begins earnestly, “both for not dodging your appointments with Frank and for agreeing to be honest with me.” He looks Eddie in the eyes, hopes his face displays exactly how serious he is. “You can still stop this scene or leave at any point if you can’t or _don’t want_ to do this anymore. No hard feelings, no reprimands. Clear?”

Eddie doesn’t move other than to nod. “Yes, sir.”

“That being said,” Bobby sighs. “I think we need to start with a punishment.” He steps closer when Eddie’s brow flicks down. “Do you understand why? _Ah-ah,_ ” he admonishes when Eddie’s gaze lowers. “If I want your head bowed, I’ll say so. Eyes on me when we’re speaking.”

Eddie raises his gaze again, looks Bobby in the face; cowering has never been in his coding. “Because somebody got hurt.”

Bobby almost lets that ride. “That was weak phrasing.”

“Because…” Eddie takes a breath and it’s already unsteady, precedes the quaver in his voice. “Because _I_ hurt someone. Because I seriously injured somebody instead of…asking for help.”

Bobby nods his approval. “Your atonement for that starts here. You’re going to be punished for that decision.” He continues, almost offers physical comfort before he decides it’s best for that to wait. “Then we’ll move forward.”

“Sir,” Eddie agrees softly, shame molded all through his voice.

“Strip down to your underwear. You can fold your clothes on that chair,” Bobby says nodding and rolling up his sleeves. “What’s your pain threshold like?”

Eddie is off-balance enough not to give him the cocky look that he might have garnered elsewhere, the snide comment about cage matches not exactly being pain-free. “Pretty high…” he offers carefully, shrugging out of his overshirt.

“You’ve been spanked before and found it pleasant?” Bobby asks, though their initial paperwork had confirmed as much.

“Yes, sir,” Eddie answers levelly, a blush burning his cheeks.

“You understand this is not going to be the same thing? I’ll use my hand as a warm up, but I intend to escalate to the point of pain. You won’t be getting off today.” _Not intentionally anyway,_ but they’ll address that bridge if they get to it.

There’s a moment of hesitation, but Bobby allows the time for thought. “Yes, sir,” Eddie answers eventually, returning to a parade rest in just his boxers.

Bobby takes him by the bicep and steers him to the side of the sofa. “Keep your hands on the arm of the chair and keep your feet shoulder width apart.” When Eddie complies, Bobby puts his hand in the center of his back. Eddie’s running hot and has to consciously breathe to make his shoulders relax. “If we get to a point where you cannot take it, I need to know that,” he continues. “Have you ever used a safe word before?”

Eddie stares straight ahead. “No, sir.”

“Then let’s start with traffic lights,” Bobby says, because he intends to check in a lot today and they need to be on the same page. “Green means you’re okay to keep going. Yellow means you need to slow down. Red means you need to stop immediately. Simple enough?”

“Yes, sir,” Eddie answers and chances a glance at him. “Green.”

Bobby nods encouragingly, before he adjusts his stance. “Breathe,” he reminds him and pulls his hand off Eddie’s back.

The first smack seems to surprise him some, the motion startling from his ass up his back. It leaves his mouth falling open, a startled sound getting halfway out before he smothers it, eyes wide. He’s liked this before, but that was likely when it was playful and sweet; smaller hands, a lighter swing.

This is a punishment, not foreplay.

Bobby starts out spanking him with a little more strength than he would normally use on a newer sub, but still not near the upper limits of what he’d be willing to do. This is still a warmup, after all, and he doesn’t want to tire himself out before he wears Eddie out. He’s counting in his head, an even number for each cheek, carefully cataloging every reaction. Eddie’s face folds like he wants to cry about halfway through Bobby’s mental tally, shoulders trembling almost imperceptibly.

“Color?” Bobby asks, his hand now just resting on Eddie’s ass. He watches his eyes fall shut, the muscles of his arms standing in stark relief as he adjusts his grip on the sofa.

“Green, sir,” Eddie answers. There’s a complicated pain in his voice, a slight waver, but no hesitation.

When Bobby slides a hand under his chest, he finds him sweat-slick, heart pounding against his ribs. “A few more, then I’m going to have you kneel.” He says and feels Eddie’s thundering pulse in his palm as he finishes up. He draws his hands away, but doesn’t step back, not when Eddie is already listing towards him like it’s instinct.

There’s a reverence Bobby always feels when he sees little instances of power lost, power _given to_ _him_ by subs like that. He’s going to take care of Eddie, he wants that more than anything right now. He stays close by his side.

“Hm. Take your boxers off,” he commands and Eddie comes back to himself some, but silently slides his boxers down his legs. He folds them without asking, even if they come open a little when he tosses them onto the chair just out of reach. Even as a straight man, Bobby takes a moment to appreciate him in all his vulnerable beauty. His gaze passes over his cock absently—completely soft—to his ass where it’s already a lovely and bright shade of red. “Good. Come kneel over the table.”

Eddie is a little slower to get to his knees, but Bobby thinks it might be the daze of something near subspace more than any sort of disobedience. He’s still got such a fragile look on his face when he kneels down, folding his arms over the table and bracing there, staring down at the spatulas that are going to serve as paddles.

Bobby puts his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “None of these are going to be pleasant,” he says. “But the ones with holes are going to hurt much more. Do you need a preference?”

“Yellow,” Eddie gasps.

“Yes?” Bobby is prepared to push them off the table and end the scene if need be.

“Please don’t let me pick,” Eddie chokes out like it hurts him, properly teared up all of a sudden.

“Okay,” Bobby answers, picking up the one without holes. “Keep your hands on the table. I’m starting with this one, but I’m going to give you a few rounds with the holes before I stop.”

“Green,” Eddie breathes out shakily, letting his head hang forward between his shoulders. He breathes in when Bobby takes his hand away. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Bobby answers, stroking the spatula over his stinging ass, down the inside of his thighs. “Breathe.”

Bobby swings as soon as Eddie sucks in a breath, the blow making him exhale explosively, jolting against the table. He moves faster now, less time for the sting to fade between strikes until Eddie is making almost constant pained noises under his breath. Bobby strays a little lower than his ass, right to the crux of his thighs and a curse staggers out of his mouth, wobbling and broken. Bobby is watching so he sees the moment Eddie’s tears spill over, dripping onto the tabletop between his hands.

“Color.”

“Green,” Eddie answers scratchily, then when Bobby sets down the flat spatula for the one with slats cut into it, “Green, sir.”

“Excellent,” Bobby says before he can think of any reason not to. “You’re taking this so well, you’re almost done.”

Bobby doesn’t pull his swings just because it’ll hurt more, that’s the whole point. The point is the spatula whistling through the air and leaving an impression of its shape in the already burning red skin of Eddie’s ass. The point is for Eddie to be sweating and shaking, his breath ragged and progressively more clogged with tears. Bobby’s arm is sore, but not as sore as Eddie’s bottom and that lights him all up inside, his focus sharp on everything Eddie is giving him. The last ten strikes land so hard Eddie lets out a cry that’s closer to a shout and doesn’t stop until Bobby does.

“Good boy,” Bobby tells him and the heartbroken sound he gets in response clenches in his chest. He puts the spatula down on the table and runs his hand down Eddie’s back, over his bottom. “It’s all over. You’re done. You’re _forgiven_ ,” he says and Eddie loses it completely, shoulders hunching up as he starts crying like he can’t breathe. “You did _so_ well, Ed, I’m so proud of you.”

Bobby continues talking, low and soothing, even as Eddie can’t get ahold of himself, sobbing with his forehead pressed against the table. After a minute of this, Bobby sits on the floor, voice still calm and soft as he pulls Eddie towards him. Eddie winds up twisted in his lap, bawling brokenly into his chest. “Good, Eddie, let it go,” he soothes, wrapping Eddie up in his arms and legs—anything he can get around him. “You’re ok now. You’re doing perfect.”

There’s a basket beside the sofa that usually has remotes and old magazines, but right now has a sports drink, a water bottle, and a cup of fruit. The box of tissues was already there. Bobby doesn’t jostle Eddie until his breathing evens out into something closer to normal, even if his lungs are still spasming every few seconds with lingering sobs.

“ _Shit_ ,” Eddie says then, a laugh that steers him dangerously close to crying again.

“Language,” Bobby says, throwing a hand back for the basket. He wipes at Eddie’s face with a tissue as he offers a mumbled apology. “Here, have some gatorade…”

Eddie’s a little too sore to sit upright and a little too emotionally sore to move away from Bobby, so Bobby doesn’t make him. He just sits back and lets Eddie lean on him while they sip water and share a fruit salad.

“How are you feeling?” Bobby asks eventually, sitting back some to try and catch a look at Eddie’s face. He lets him go when he sits up onto his hip.

Eddie sniffs, rubs a hand over his face. “My head hurts.”

Bobby hums softly, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck. Eddie tenses for a second then slumps under his hand. “Have some more to drink.”

“Might run out of tears?” Eddie says to his lap.

Bobby chuckles. “I remember that trick.”

“I remember Chris getting too old for that trick,” Eddie says before he finishes the bottle.

“Smart kid.”

“Yeah, he is.”

They sit in silence for a while longer until Eddie can kneel up for Bobby to take a look at his ass. He’ll be bruised in a few hours and sore for the next few days, but he looks otherwise undamaged. Certainly in no worse shape than an underground cage match would leave him.

“You did wonderfully for your first time,” Bobby tells him again, trying to be as gentle as possible when he rubs lotion into the abused skin.

“I feel like a kid with diaper rash,” Eddie blurts quickly, now present enough to be embarrassed about his state and the tender treatment.

“Neither one of us are into that,” Bobby teases, wiping his hands as he finishes up. “Go use the bathroom. I want to sit with you for a while longer.”

“Yes, sir.” Eddie gets to his feet, pauses a moment. “Can I put my clothes on?”

“Sure,” Bobby answers. “Whatever makes you most comfortable for now.”

Bobby takes a few minutes to get the room in order. He quickly gathers the spatulas in the master bath to be washed and moves the table back in place. He’s sitting on the couch when Eddie comes back, damp like he’s washed his face. He’s walking a little stiffly in his jeans, but comes over gratefully when Bobby motions for him. He seems stiff when Bobby tugs him sideways, resting his head on Bobby’s thigh. Then, all of a sudden, it’s like the idea of pretending he doesn’t want it is more effort than it’s worth. The tightness in his body drains all at once and Bobby strokes up his side.

“How are you feeling now?”

Eddie sighs, but it doesn’t sound beleaguered. “I didn’t… I guess, I hadn’t realized how tired I was?” he answers. “But like it made me too tired to sleep, you know?”

Bobby does. “You don’t feel like that now?”

“I feel like I finally had a nap,” Eddie mutters softly, turning to look up at him. “Right down to the headache and the desire to just… keep laying here.”

“Then lay here for a while,” Bobby laughs, reaching for the remote. “We can watch the game.”

They do wind up watching the game until about halftime when Eddie stretches and doesn’t seem muggy. The world seems a little less dreamlike; Bobby is still aware of his body like he’s pinned there, but the rest of the room is back in focus, the future, his plans for the evening. They all matter again.

“You feeling ok to drive?” Bobby asks, just to be sure.

Eddie nods, pulling his shoes back on. “I feel really good, honestly,” he replies with a sheepish smile, shrugging. He’s pink in the face again. “I mean, _sitting_ in the car is going to be interesting, but…” He stands upright suddenly. “Bobby?”

“Yeah, Eddie?”

Eddie looks like he doesn’t know what to do with his body, other than move it a half-step closer to Bobby. “Thank you, sir.”

Bobby smiles easy and full, drags him in for one last tight hug. “You did excellent. I’d love to have you back.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Eddie admits over his shoulder before they separate and Bobby is so proud he could burst.

Seeing him off, Bobby stands in the driveway until Eddie’s out of sight before he goes back into the house. The door closes and he has to stand there for a second, leaning back against the wall in the foyer. It’s been a long time since he’s felt this bone deep confidence, like he could take on anything and still carry the world after. It’s unique to his dominance, the sharpness of the feeling and he’d forgotten how fun it is, he really had. It’s going to burn off fast, the roller coaster speeding back down to earth for him to step off, dizzy and elated, but for now…

Bobby tips his head back and breathes in the air of the top of the world.

*

They’re fixing dinner together when Athena finally says. “Well?”

Bobby hasn’t really let himself fixate too much on his own feelings all day, beyond self-checking to make sure he was still on an even keel. With the question, though, he feels himself flooding with pride and warmth again. “He needed it,” he admits softly. “Kid _really_ needed it.”

Athena nudges his shoulder with hers, catching his gaze. “And you felt okay giving it?”

Bobby nods, setting his knife down and stepping back from his half-chopped vegetables. “It felt good,” he takes a breath, looking at her again. “I don’t want to give specifics…”

“Of course,” Athena allows, raising her eyebrows before turning to check the oven. “ _But_?”

“ _But_ he took what I dealt very well and it got him to where I wanted him.” Bobby says, thinking of the mottled red of Eddie’s ass, the splotchy red on his teary face. “Catharsis is a hell of a thing to feel, even if only for a few hours.”

“I’ll bet,” Athena says knowingly and Bobby is too dignified to roll his eyes at her, but it’s a near thing.

“Yeah, yeah, for me, too,” he agrees, smiling at her before gratefully leaning into a kiss. “I don’t need it, but I enjoyed it a lot.”

Athena hums at him. “I can tell,” she replies. “It’s a good look on you.”

Bobby has done nothing to deserve this life, but hell if he doesn’t love it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Psst, you can count the story as ended here if you aren't into wetting or bondage--those show up in the next chapter!)


	3. Chapter 3

“I want to tie you up,” Bobby says a few sessions in.

They’ve been meeting up every other week or so as they can. Generally speaking, Eddie mostly still asks for beatings, even if they’ve discussed how they’re removed from punishment now. The caning—tried only once—will be reserved for instances where Eddie really needs a punishment. So far, they’re just enjoying each other’s company while they send Eddie out of his own head. There are times where Eddie cries and growls through his teeth, lets himself list in subspace on his knees with his face in Bobby’s lap after. Bobby is hesitant about slapping and kicking him, but then Eddie is hesitant about asking after he gets hard enough to nearly come untouched on one memorable occasion. Bobby had handled it gracefully, finishing the beating without comment and sending Eddie off to take care of himself in the bathroom.

Over the sessions, they’ve slotted together in a newly tightened friendship, with the wonderfully flattering addition of Bobby earning his capital S, _Sir._ They have a process to this now.

Bobby is always first to their room—rented so there are no neighbors to complain about the noise and no kids to accidently come home early—to set up their scene. Eddie comes in shortly after and kneels by the door with his things until he’s called for.

Today, Bobby comes into the hall and says, “I want to tie you up.”

Eddie looks interested, not appalled. He’s a masochist that enjoys blunt force, but he’s in good shape and likes the strain of sore muscles, too. It’s something they’ve discussed, briefly, over beers instead of during a scene. Eddie has profiles online, now, friends he can talk to about pain and how to get the kind he might enjoy. He wears his pain so beautifully; Bobby would have to be a much less honest man to deny he wants to see it.

There’s another reason Bobby wants him in knots, but they’ll get there if they get there. If Eddie has obeyed him, and he almost always does and fesses up when he does not, he hasn’t used the bathroom since he woke up this morning.

“I’d like to try that, Sir,” Eddie answers, still lax and happy on his knees. He even smiles when Bobby steps forward to run his hand through Eddie’s hair.

Bobby had forked out enough to get a few lengths of hemp rope (and a pack of bright yellow cotton braid for a body harness that Athena had looked _stunning_ in) last weekend. Even just the smell of new rope had given him an odd rush of nostalgia, that melted easily into anticipation and joy that he gets to use it on Eddie.

“Any new injuries I need to know about?” Bobby says as he gets set up, lengths of rope and a pair of safety shears across the coffee table. Eddie is now standing in nothing but his briefs in the center of the room, looking no more harmed than usual, but it never hurts to ask.

“No, Sir,” Eddie answers as expected.

“Good,” Bobby says, running the end of a bundle through his hand. “I want to watch you struggle.”

Eddie is gorgeous in rope, as expected, patient and pliant through the whole process of getting bound in it. Eddie’s eyes glaze over pleasantly when, after tying him in loops on his knees, Bobby pushes him over with his foot. His arms aren’t free to catch himself and he goes down with a thud, breathing against the slight restriction around his chest.

Bobby stands over him as he lays there, feeling warm and powerful. “Get out of it.”

It’s not a complicated tie to escape, but it still takes a fair amount of contorting. Bobby circles him like a shark as Eddie works his way out, appendage by appendage. After a few quiet minutes, he’s facedown and breathing hard, fingers twisting to try and dig into the knots around his arms. The second the rope spools free and he lets out a sigh, Bobby is back with another bundle of rope and a more complicated tie.

“Sir…” Eddie says plaintively when Bobby steps back. It’s not a complaint, nor is it even really a plea. Sometimes Eddie just calls for him, like he just wants to feel the word in his mouth knowing Bobby will respond. His whining tone is meaningless. They both know it won’t get him anywhere, but Bobby never tells him to be quiet.

Bobby smiles at him. “Sounds like you’re having fun.” He firmly claps Eddie’s cheek when he rolls his eyes. “Come on, you know the drill.”

Eddie takes longer to get out this time, properly winded by the time he does. The floaty look on his face from earlier is back, more settled in than before. He’s maybe a little something like hard, too, but mostly he just looks proud to have solved Bobby’s puzzle. This time, Bobby doesn’t force him to stay down, lets him roll up to his knees. Bobby reaches down to gently scratch above Eddie’s ear, trailing his nails down to his jawline when Eddie leans into the touch.

“I want to do one that hurts more,” Bobby tells him. “Little more work on your muscles and leave you wrapped up for a bit.”

“Sounds good to me, Sir,” Eddie replies, eyes sliding half-shut.

Bobby is always careful with his ties, always sure of his knots and how much pressure he wants applied where. This kind of tie always makes him focus a little closer on his positioning, how much weight is being borne where and how soon he can get Eddie out if his muscles can’t bear it. Even as fit as he is, it won’t take very long for him to get tired with this one, on his knees, forced into something like a partial squat. Bobby’s got Eddie’s arms bound together in front of him, held out, because if he brings them down, they’ll make the line running between his legs uncomfortably snug on his balls. If he tries to collapse to rest fully on his heels, he gets the same, but with the force of half his body weight behind the pull. Trying to kneel up will pull his arm down, giving him another sharp dose of the same. It’s a fantastic tie, honestly. Bobby’s only ever had one sub try it before and he’d had to use the quick releases less than five minutes in.

Even if the same happens today, Bobby has to appreciate his work for a second when he sits back. He sighs at a job well done, takes in the full picture of Eddie sweating, already shifting in place. Eddie tests the bounds some, the muscles in his thighs tensing as he tries to straighten, a hurt sound almost smothered in the back of his throat when he realizes what that feels like. His gaze is unfocused on the room now, gone completely internal; grounded in his own body.

Bobby leans into Eddie’s face. “Hey, look at me. Where are you?”

Eddie blinks at him blearily. “Here, Sir.”

“A color, Ed,” Bobby clarifies with a smile, tapping Eddie’s jawline to keep his focus.

“Oh. Green,” Eddie answers, leaning into his hand again. “I like this.”

God, Eddie is such a gem. “I’m glad,” Bobby replies, scratching his jaw again. He pulls up the chair he’d shoved out of the way before they got started. “Not too hard yet?”

There’s a hint of apprehension in Eddie’s face even as he smiles faintly. “No, Sir. That gonna change?”

Bobby sits back and settles his heels in Eddie’s hands, smirking at his startled noise. “Tell me if it gets too heavy before I stop you.”

Eddie has to clear his throat, shifting around to try and keep the weight of Bobby’s legs balanced so it’s not like _getting kicked in the balls._ “Yes, Sir,” he answers tightly.

Chatting while Eddie is so clearly struggling is such a joy, Bobby has to resettle himself under the title sadist because he _is._ He’s always known, but being in the middle of a scene—watching Eddie start to tremble all over, voice jerking around whenever his hands come down under the weight and he overcorrects—is always a stark reminder. He enjoys pain and he’s found himself a Boy who wears is _brilliantly._

“Need to stop?” Bobby asks, when Eddie’s breath catches in the middle of a sentence, startling himself with the pain of moving too suddenly, trying to draw his legs together.

“I—” Eddie starts to answer, but has to try several times to get the sentence out, face burning when he finally does. “I have to use the bathroom.”

“Okay.” Bobby nods, goes back to the magazine article they’d been talking about.

“Sir?” Eddie asks, confusion evident.

“Go whenever you have to, Eddie.” Bobby watches out of his peripherals as Eddie freezes in place. He’s not getting out of those ties; they both know it.

“ _Sir_?” His voice cracks.

“You heard me,” Bobby replies firmly. Though he gentles his expression. There’s shame all over Eddie’s face, but Bobby thinks it has more to do with wanting to stay on his knees than wanting to be let free. “Hey. You only do what I ask of you here, remember? I wouldn’t ask you to do something I would punish you for.” He’d lean closer to offer some comfort, but he doesn’t want to put any additional weight on Eddie’s arms. “Give me a color, Ed. You and I are good no matter what it is.”

Eddie’s head moves in a way that could really mean anything, a shake, a nod, just plain old stretching. His lip quivers in a way that can’t be disguised though as he croaks out, “ _Green_.”

“Okay,” Bobby says, flipping open the magazine. “I’m thinking of trying a new stew for you guys…”

Even as he’s dragging Eddie through an increasingly one-sided conversation, Bobby hears him lose control before he sees it.

“Sir, _Sir,_ ” he says frantically, but then can only let out a long groan that breaks suddenly on a sob. Less than a second later and a dark spot spreads across his crotch, a visible stream streaking down his thigh. His breathing goes ragged and noisy, panting with a mix of shame and relief that leaves him swaying on his knees as the puddle spreads around him. Bobby takes his feet aside and leans towards him.

“You’re okay,” he says softly over the splashing of Eddie’s piss hitting the floor, over the sound of his crying. He sets his fits in Eddie’s sweating palms, just to give him something to cling to as he loses control of everything else. “You’re doing just fine, Eddie, let it all go. That’s just what I want from you. I’m in control here; you don’t need to be.”

Eddie lets out a choking breath at the words, tears rolling down his face as he bows his head. He shudders and gives over to big, heaving sobs as Bobby strokes the back of his head. “ _Sir._ ”

“I’m right here,” Bobby tells him. “I got you.”

Bobby lets him finish, murmuring softly to him until Eddie whimpers, “Yellow, Sir, it _hurts, I can’t…_ ” Bobby takes his fist back and pulls the quick releases on Eddie’s hips and groin, lets him sink down onto his heels with a shuddering sigh. Eddie leans forward to hide his face in Bobby’s shoulder, hands lowering gratefully towards his own chest.

“Good boy, you did fantastically,” Bobby assures him, still gently scratching the nape of his neck. “You did exactly as I asked of you and I’m so proud of you.”

Eddie gasps a little. “Thank you, Sir.”

“We’re gonna get you out, now, ok?” Bobby says and waits until Eddie nods against him to proceed with the rest of the quick ties. Most of the knots he can tug out one handed, continues to cradle Eddie’s head until he absolutely needs both hands to get the knots on his arms undone. He lets the ropes fall, heedless of the piss on the floor. They’re all getting washed and he isn’t going to belabor the point of which specific lengths got the dirtiest. Normally, he wouldn’t have Eddie stand so soon after a scene, but he doesn’t want to have Eddie chafing in a puddle. “Nice and easy, get up for me?”

Eddie gets to his feet, unsteady and sniffling, his sodden briefs clinging to him and piss from the floor dribbling down his shins. When Bobby asks if he can remove them, Eddie doesn’t open his eyes, brows dipping sharply, but he nods. Bobby leaves them on the floor and has Eddie step onto a spare rag before leading him by the arm to the bathroom.

“Do you feel okay showering on your own or do you want me to help?” Bobby asks, then when Eddie tenses a little, he slides his hand up from his wrist to wrap an arm around his shoulders instead. “I won’t go anywhere, nothing like that. You and I still have some laying around to do, I just thought you might feel better clean.”

“Yeah,” Eddie answers waveringly, ducking his head against Bobby’s shoulder for a moment. “But can I have a minute, Sir?”

Bobby pulls him closer instantly. “Of course, Ed,” he says, wrapping him up as Eddie hides his face in Bobby’s neck. “And I’ll be right here when you get out, too.”

Eventually, Eddie stands upright, looking sheepish and sweet when Bobby cups his face. He gets into the shower and Bobby returns to the main room to clean up. He makes quick work of rebinding the ropes and setting them in the bathroom sink before he mops the floor, including the path to the bathroom. Eddie’s briefs go in a plastic bag for washing later. By the time he’s done, the room smells lavender fresh and Eddie is wandering out in a towel.

“I thought you would want me to do that,” Eddie says hesitantly.

“If I did, I would’ve asked you,” Bobby replies easily, drying his hands. He picks up Eddie’s spare bag of clothes. “Come here.”

After Eddie is dressed in sweats and a hoodie, Bobby wraps him up tightly in a blanket. A lot of times, coming out of bondage is freeing, but after that last tie, he can imagine it’s a little more like losing the structure that was holding you together. At least for Eddie, who is shuddering gratefully in Bobby’s arms as he squeezes him.

“How are you feeling?” Bobby asks, settling half under Eddie’s weight and the soothing pressure of each other’s presence after a scene. The TV is playing something softly in the background that they’re hardly paying attention to as they sip their waters and split a container of chopped fruit.

“I’m… I feel okay,” Eddie answers, turning further into Bobby’s embrace. “I didn’t like making you clean up after me, but… I like how you handle me. You know?” He interrupts himself to look up at Bobby, bemused and delighted. “I’m feeling like I’m glad you’re my Dom.”

Later this evening, Bobby and his family are going to be going out to the movies after dinner. As far as he knows, Eddie is going to be coming home to a surprise dinner, courtesy of Buck and Christopher. Bobby’s going to go to bed with his wife, in a better version of his life than he ever could’ve imagined before he met her. Buck and Ed are probably going to stay up far too late playing videogames and talking trash, because having your best friend back after so long apart is its own fantastic joy. After lives spotted with horrible pain and heartbreak, Eddie and Bobby are both wonderfully loved.

Even here, pressed up against his sub, Bobby is awash with so much love it feels like it’s vibrating under his skin. Enough of it to fuel him (and maybe a whole city block) for months. He smiles without an ounce of control over the expression. “I’m glad you’re my sub, Eddie.”

They have other things to get back to today, jobs and families they love with their whole hearts. Later, Bobby will hug Eddie and send him on his way, before continuing on home. That’s okay; more than okay, even, it’s _perfect._ For now, though, they are just Dom and sub, nothing else. They lay close and bask in this peculiar joy they’ve found in one another.

The rest of the world can wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading…have you stretched recently? 10 seconds of stretching is better than none!
> 
> (Unsexy reminders: BDSM, even of the most loving variety, will not fix your problems. If you’re struggling to move forward, talk to someone.)
> 
> 9-1-1 is not my primary fandom, but hey, some people are going to offer it up for [ FTH](https://fandomtrumpshate.dreamwidth.org/)! If you’re interested in me giving it a shot, too, take a look at my page when it opens!
> 
> I’m trying to remember to rec a fic on every fic I post, but…I actually just started reading 9-1-1 fics! I don’t see any Bobby&Eddie-centric. Hm… I may have to update this note later!


End file.
